• Only Create

    • May 29, 2024 3:29 pm

    Dearest Readers,

    “Only create” is a loving rip-off of E.M. Forster’s famous quote, “Only connect.”

    I’ve been devouring all things Forster lately, re-reading his well-known novels (Where Angels Fear to Tread, Room with a View, Howard’s End) and discovering his lesser-known ones (The Longest Journey); exploring his science-fiction and fantasy short stories (who knew?) and re-watching film adaptations (A Passage to India).

    Forster was so, so brilliant. Much of his work is about rejecting convention in order to live passionately. His characters alternately ignore and drink in life’s beauty. “Only connect” was his command for living. Drop pretense. Wake up to your deepest self.

    While I’ve used Forster’s quote “only connect” as a descriptor for my work in many a grant-proposal, I’m changing it to “only create” because creating has been helping me to feel good about myself lately and who doesn’t need a self-esteem boost in these times of posting and posing and comparing/despairing?

    Creation is the antidote.

    In a recent blog about “Peace as an Everyday Practice”, I quoted a friend who’d said, “Peace is not the opposite of war, creation is.”

    Because creating is life-affirming and life-giving.

    I often avoid being creative because the inner critic is telling me, “You suck, don’t bother.”

    Or if I do manage to muster the courage to create something new, fear will jump in to stop me. “It’s not good enough.”

    I want (and need) the self-confidence that comes when I let creativity reign therefore ignoring the voices of dissent and walking through my fear has become an essential practice.

    Last year, I wanted to create a painting of a photo of me sleeping curled up with my blankie at age three. I was terrified because I’d never really painted a portrait like that before and didn’t think I would succeed. But I wanted to try.

    I started the painting and struggled. I procrastinated. When I did work on it I’d end up in the worst mood. It made me so angry!

    Perfectionism, the creativity killer.

    I realized needed help and signed up for a painting class. I practiced and got better. By letting go of the need to “get it right” and allowing the paint to teach me, I finished the painting and submitted it to a juried art show. Much to my delight, the painting was accepted.

    The painting will soon hang in a gallery with the work of other artists and that is a big deal for me. But more importantly, I feel good about myself. And if you live with low self-esteem like I do, that is the bigger deal.

    If you are one of those people who says, “I don’t have a creative bone in my body” then listen closely: that is a lie you have been telling yourself.

    Because I’ve witnessed you making a collage and discovering you have a knack for it. I’ve seen you do improv and find out you’re a natural clown. I’ve noticed the way you dance. I’ve watched you plant your garden. Cook a meal. Write a letter.

    Being creative doesn’t mean you know how to draw! Being creative means you let the Creative Force that is animating our bodies and fuelling our imaginations create something, anything, through you.

    So drown out the inner critic and persevere. Allow creativity to come through. Generate some good feelings for and about yourself.

    Only create!

    With love and blessings,

    Celia

    We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

    ~ E.M. Forster

    Return of Spirit

    • June 7, 2022 12:22 pm

    Dearest Readers,

    As many of you know, I’ve spent the last six years writing a spiritual memoir called O My God: An Un-Becoming Journey, and am now in the final stages of assisted publishing with Tellwell, a Canadian indie company. Fingers crossed, the book will be available for purchase in June.

    Am I over the moon with excitement? A part of me is doing a happy dance, yes, but the inner critics (there are more than one), released an avalanche of negative self-judgement while I was completing the penultimate polish of the manuscript, and with it came a pile of dread.

    If you have your own inner critics you know they aren’t very kind. I struggled to finish the draft while the “voices of dissent” (as I like to call the barrage) went on and on. I listened to them, tuned them out, asked for help and took care of myself. It took me a while, but I eventually remembered that negative voices are not truth-tellers. They are fearful needs trying to get met.

    Last week, I managed to complete the draft and submit it to Tellwell, and later that day I went for a massage. It was good timing. I could reward my achievement by doing something special and allow myself to receive intense self-care at the same time.

    Just before getting on the table, the massage therapist asked me if I’d like to pick a card.

    “Always,” I said.

    He held up a deck in a black box, emblazoned with an image of a fluorescent, psychedelic phoenix on the front, accompanied by the deck’s name: “Return of Spirit.”

    He shuffled, and held out the fanned cards. I let my fingers hover above them, feeling for the energetic pull. A card found my fingers and I slid it out.

    We looked. The image matched the one on the box. The card read “Return of Spirit.”

    “No one has ever pulled that card before!” he exclaimed. “That is the first time anyone has ever got that card! It’s the master card!”

    I smiled. The Universe has its ways, doesn’t it?

    Excitedly, he read the card’s wisdom:

    “You have come a long way in your journey. No, it hasn’t been easy, but you have made it through. Acknowledge, for just a moment, the strength and courage that you have discovered within you. This is the card of triumph, heart-felt connection, and mastery. Hold your head high and feel proud of who you are … Your spiritual connection to Source is stronger now than it has ever been.”

    Really? I was a little baffled. I wasn’t feeling anything close to triumph or mastery. The illness I wrote about in my last two letters is still with me, the inner critics had just spent days trying to kill me … oh, and there’s some other hard stuff happening: a pandemic, a war in Ukraine, nasty divisions bubbling up everywhere, climate change.

    No, it hasn’t been easy. For anyone.

    “But you have made it through.”

    Well, yes.

    Could you acknowledge just for a moment the strength and courage you’ve discovered within you?

    Yes … I could.

    Could you hold your head high and feel proud of who you are?

    “Now wait a minute,” the critics jump in, “that is going toooo far into the corny-mushy-gushy zone.”

    Shhh. It’s okay. Just relax already. You don’t have to police that zone. It’s not your job.

    Okay. You’re right. I’m relaxing. Sigh.

    Now. Could you trust that your spiritual connection to Source is stronger now than it has ever been?

    Well …

    Well?

    Well, yes. I suppose I could. I pulled Master Card, didn’t I?

    You certainly did.

    Whoot-whoot! I pulled the Master Card! Happy dance! Head-held-high-and-proud dance! Goofy-silly-freedom dance! I’m-publishing-a-book-that-took-me-six-years-to-write dance! Yee-haw! Yippeeee! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

    From the corny-mushy-gushy fires of love,

    Celia